As they stitch each other up
and paint their eyebrows and gloss their lips
designer label lovers are as real
as the clothes they hang on their hips.
The show over, they dine
where restaurant cooks stir (with a fag in their mouth) behind kitchen doors.
As bedtime wardrobe window-dressers, they wake up the next day:
Just part-time boutique assistants, where make-believe breakfast champagne pours.